


Side Story: Weird Neighbors

by Akira_of_the_Twilight



Series: My Roommate is a Demon (and There is Going to be Trouble) [25]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Neighbors, Peter Parker & Wade Wilson Friendship, Protective Wade Wilson, Protectiveness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-17 06:58:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13653828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akira_of_the_Twilight/pseuds/Akira_of_the_Twilight
Summary: Peter’s neighbor was weird.“What? Why are you making that face?” Wade asked as he puffed on his cigarette. “I thought kids like macaroni."Peter looked down at the bowl of instant macaroni and cheese in his hands. “There’s enough here to feed four people.”Wade shrugged. “So? You’re skinny. Don’t worry about it.”





	Side Story: Weird Neighbors

Peter’s neighbor was weird.

“What? Why are you making that face?” Wade asked as he puffed on his cigarette. Aunt May would throw a fit later, but when Peter had reminded Wade that Aunt May had a no smoking policy, he said: “She knows what she’s getting when it comes to me.”

Peter didn’t think Aunt May knew at all what she was getting when it came to Wade. Peter didn’t think anyone did. Wade seemed like a recluse or a hermit at first, because he never came out during the day, but the moment night hit, Wade was out partying like his days were numbered. He often reeked of alcohol, and it was thanks to Wade that Peter learned what pot and other substances smelled like. He was always bringing people over to his place, and more than once Peter had seen Wade give them money either as they went in or as they left.

Peter tried not to judge, but some days it was difficult.

“I thought kids like macaroni,” Wade said. He dipped his hand into his hood so he could scratch at his neck.

Wade liked wearing his hoodies up, even in doors. Peter suspected because it covered some of the scarring on his head and face. Wade had said he got the scars from a bad burn.

Peter knew “bad” was a mild term.

Peter looked down at the bowl of instant macaroni and cheese in his hands. “There’s enough here to feed four people.”

Wade shrugged. “So? You’re skinny. Don’t worry about it.”

“No, I mean, thanks.” Peter hugged the bowl to his chest. “I appreciate it. I’m starving after work. Been runnin’ around all day.” Peter set the bowl down on the dinner table. He pushed aside some of Aunt May’s magazine’s and gestured for Wade to take a seat. “You can have some too.”

Wade drew on his cig then released it. “Thanks, but no thanks. I don’t eat that crap.” Wade smiled widely. “Now, if it were a chimichanga, I’d deal with indigestion for that, but not that orange dyed shit.”

Wade’s words rankled Peter. He didn’t know what to say. Wade had just made him dinner, and was now calling the meal shit (and not in self-deprecating “I can’t cook” kind of way). Peter was still thankful, but not as much as he’d been minutes ago.

“So you going to need anything, or can I go back to my apartment?” Wade shoved his hands in his hoodie’s pocket and tossed his annoyed stare at the wall.

“I’ll be fine. I still have a lot of homework I need to finish.”

“Right, right. Such a nerd.” Wade took another puff then headed for the door. When he reached it, he swung his head over his shoulder. “You want anything, you knock on my door. You know the drill.”

Peter nodded. He’d known the drill since he’d been adopted by his aunt and uncle. Not that his aunt and uncle had been fond of Wade at first. However Peter had liked Wade upon meeting when he was younger, and one thing had led to another, and now whenever Aunt May got called in to a night shift or had to stay longer at work, Wade made him dinner and was semi in charge of Peter.

“You sure you don’t want to help me with my science project? I’m working on a-”

“Ugh!” Wade threw open the door and stomped out. “Nerd!” He slammed the door shut.

Peter grinned to himself. Finally, he had the whole apartment to himself. Peter hurried to his room where he shimmied out of his work clothes and changed into his boxers and a large T-shirt. He was going to make himself comfy while he worked. Peter returned to the living room and turned on the TV. He flipped through the channels until he found Star Trek. He raised the volume, then went off to retrieve his school bag. He dump all of its contents on the living room floor.

Once Peter was done making his nest, he grabbed the bowl of macaroni and dug in.

As therapeutic as it was to work with cats all day, he was still working at a café. It was still the service industry, and while Peter enjoyed a lot of the customers who came to the café, every now and then he got a few who drove him crazy. Today he had to deal with someone who insisted on paying with Starbucks gift card.

Last he checked, Starbucks wasn’t affiliated with any cat cafés, and _Cats & Scones _ was definitely not owned by Starbucks or had any signage to indicate it was.  

Peter had found himself stroking a few of the cats on his break just to calm down after the lengthy debate. He had to thoroughly wash his hands after playing with the cats, but it had been worth it.

Peter worked his way through his homework with Star Trek in the background. He typed up note on his phone and highlighted his handouts. He breezed through his history homework, but took his time with chemistry. He loved the class, but it was always a rush to complete his labs, and his notes were so sloppy he had to text his friend Ned to verify what he had written. Literature was a pain. He didn’t like the book they’d been assigned, and he had to read fifty pages and write a short essay.

Peter stretched as he finished reading the final page. He tossed the book aside, picked up the half-eaten bowl of macaroni, wrapped up the excess food, and stored it in the fridge. Peter took the opportunity to look for orange juice, but found none. Peter looked through the recycle bin. That’s where he found the orange juice carton.

Peter grumbled. Not only did he want juice, but he was going to need it in the morning.

Peter looked at the clock on the microwave. His aunt wouldn’t get off her shift for another hour and it would take her time to get home.

Peter considered his options. It seemed silly to ask Wade if he could get Peter some juice, but he didn’t want to wait for Aunt May either. Besides, he was seventeen—almost an adult. He had a job, and he had money. He could easily go to the nearest convenience store and pick up a carton of juice.

Decision made, Peter got dressed then grabbed a reusable bag, his wallet, and his keys. He exited his apartment. As Peter locked up, he glanced over his shoulder at Wade’s door.

In his head he could hear Wade urging him to knock on his door and ask for help.

Peter bit the inside of his cheek as he considered it. He should at least let Wade know where he was going, in case his aunt got home early and panicked when she didn’t see Peter.

Peter pocketed his keys and headed to Wade’s door. He lifted his hand to knock, but a loud, feminine, wanton moan made Peter stop short.

A deep moan that sounded like Wade followed.

Peter pivoted and marched through the hall, down the stairs, and out the exit. He was not interrupting Wade’s carnal activities just to tell his neighbor that he was getting juice.

Peter shivered from the cold, night air. He zipped up his jacket as he strolled through the streets.

He wondered if Uncle Ben had felt as cold on the night he had been murdered?

Peter shook his head. He didn’t feel like having morbid thoughts. Especially when those thoughts liked to point out similarities to Uncle Ben’s last night alive, and Peter’s current night. He didn’t want to think about how Uncle Ben had most likely traversed the same streets as he was. Nor did he want to think of the people Uncle Ben had most likely talked to that night, who might very well be out tonight as well or working as they had been that night.

Peter stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets and squared his shoulders. He was not going to think about that stuff.

By the time Peter reached the convenience store, he’d failed spectacularly at keeping his thoughts free of morbidity. At least he was warmer after the walk though.

Two men lounged outside of the convenient store. They each had a bottle of beer and were smoking. They eyed Peter as he went inside the store.

Peter’s nerves squirmed under their scrutiny, and he scurried over to the cold beverages aisle. The cashier shouted a greeting at Peter, which Peter returned with a, “Hi.” He searched through the fridges until he found a carton of orange juice then grabbed it and took it the register to purchase.

He and the cashier exchanged a few more pleasantries until the process was done, and Peter had his juice bagged and he was walking out of the convenience store.

Peter hummed a few notes as he skipped out of the store, only to be startled as he bumped into the two men. “Sorry,” he muttered as he hurried out of their space.

The men didn’t say anything.

Peter didn’t think anything of it until he heard two pairs of footsteps behind him.

The hairs on the back of Peter’s neck rose as he heard the men shuffle behind him. They talked casually to each other as they followed the same path as Peter.

Peter’s shoulders inched closer together the longer the men followed him. He told himself he was being paranoid, but his gut told him that the guys were tailing him. Peter made an effort to walk in brightly lit areas. He recalled the various routes to his home, and forced himself to remember what streets were packed and well lit at night.

The longer Peter walked and the longer the men remained behind him, the more his heart pounded.

He was being stalked.

 _Lights and people. Just stay near those things._ Peter reached for his apartment key in his pocket. He slipped the key between two knuckles. He cringed at the thought of stabbing someone in the eye with his key, but he battled down that reserve. Someone’s eye versus his life if these guys wanted to do more than take his money? There was no question which outcome he preferred.

Peter turned the corner and cursed. The street he’d chosen was empty, and while it ended and started brightly lit, in the center of it was dark.

The two men bumped into him.

Peter startled and tried to move away from the men, but one of them wrapped his arm around Peter’s shoulder and pulled him in close.

“Hey, bud,” The guy who’d wrapped his arm around Peter sang into his ear. “You okay? You look like Bambi.”

“You know, a kid like you shouldn’t be out this late at night,” The second guy said. A tattoo of a tiger peeked out from under his dress shirt.

“Yeah,” Hug Guy tugged Peter toward the darkened portion of the street. “We’ll walk you home. Keep you safe.”

Peter was far from safe. Peter sucked in a deep breath through his nostrils and braced himself to stab Hug Guy in the eye. A little voice in the back of his head asked him if such a drastic measure was warranted—the men hadn’t gotten violent with him yet. He could be misreading the situation.

The key burned between Peter’s knuckles.

“So what brings you out so late at night?” Tiger guy tried to get a peek inside Peter’s bag. He snorted in amusement. “Juice.”

“It’s an important part of every breakfast,” Peter said.

Both men laughed.

As Peter and the men approached the dark patch, Peter spotted an alley that bisected the street and stretched into an area blanketed in shadows.

Voices of panic screamed in Peter’s head as his heart rate rose. Maybe he was overreacting, but Peter no longer cared. Peter sucked in air through his nose and braced himself to scream then attack.

“Baby boy!” a familiar voice cooed from behind Peter, and Peter’s scream transformed into a gasp of surprise.

Peter twisted in Hug Guy’s hold.

Wade skipped down the street toward Peter with a look of absolute delight on his face. “There you are!” He bounced and flung out his arms toward Peter.

Relief rushed through Peter as Wade wrapped his arms around his shoulders and waist. Without any effort, Wade pulled Peter out of Hug Guy’s hold, and embraced Peter like he was Wade’s favorite teddy bear. Wade’s cheek pressed to the top of Peter’s head as he nuzzled Peter.

Peter threw his arms around Wade and clung to him. His fingers gripped the fabric of Wade’s hoodie as he held on to Wade with all of his might.

Wade stopped nuzzling Peter. He cocked his head so his chin rested on Peter’s cranium. The hand on Peter’s back slid to his cradle and massaged him there.

“Baby boy, I was getting so worried about you,” Wade’s gruff voice remained a no-show as he continued to pitch his voice like someone talking to a baby or a pet. “You got the ball gags, right?”

Peter groaned. He bumped his forehead on Wade’s shoulder. “I can’t believe you.”

“I told you I wanted a ball gag, baby! Last time we used the fuck machine the neighbors complained. We need a gag or we’re going to get another noise complaint. Inviting the neighbors to join us didn’t work.”

Peter was tempted to leave Wade’s arms. Deeply tempted.

“Thanks for taking care of my baby boy,” Wade said to Tiger Guy and Hug Guy.

Peter turned his head to get glimpse of the grimace on Hug Guy’s face as he looked at Wade like Wade was carrying the plague. Beside him, Tiger Guy was a mix of pissed and confused as he struggled to keep his expression neutral.

“Just wanted to help the little guy out,” Tiger Guy said.

Wade chuckled. His embrace on Peter momentarily tightened. “Thanks. Baby boy here is my heart mate. I’d murder anyone who’d try to harm him. You two just saved me from a busy night of un-alive-ing and cleaning up.” Wade snorted. “Who am I kidding? I wouldn’t bother with clean up.”

Tiger Guy straightened. His anger demolished any mask of neutralness he’d erected. “Are you looking for a fight?”

“I’m looking for a bloodbath,” Wade stated.

Peter rose on his tiptoes and whispered in Wade’s ear. “Stop. I don’t want to fight.” He didn’t want Wade to get hurt.

The odds might be more even now that it would be a two-on-two fight, but that didn’t mean one of the men didn’t a gun or knife hidden on his person. Wade was tough (he’d seen Wade fight a few times, and the man was a beast). Wade wasn’t invulnerable though.

No one was.

Thoughts of the last night he had seen his uncle before the man had been murdered surfaced in Peter’s mind. His throat constricted. Self-loathing burned him as his eyes watered. Now was not the time to cry.

“Sheesh. Fuck off looney toon.” Hug Guy turned to his friend. “Let’s get out of here. They ain’t worth it. Talking about ball gags and crap.”

Tiger Guy sneered, but followed his friend’s lead and walked away from a confrontation with Wade.

As the two left, Wade huffed. “For a guy who goes around mugging people, he sure is judgemental.”

Peter wiggled in Wade’s embrace. He undid his hold on Wade so he could slip his hands onto Wade’s chest and push. “Okay. Let me go. You smell like salsa, grape soda, and dirty socks.”

Wade chuckled. “Oh no you don’t.” Wade suddenly adjusted his grip, and the next thing Peter knew, his head was being shoved into Wade’s armpit. It smelled like a fart. “You’re going to suffer. What’s the one rule, baby boy?”

“No.” Peter flailed and wiggled, but he couldn’t get his nose away from Wade’s malodorous armpit. “I’m going to die!”

“Number one rule!” Wade persisted.

“Let you know if I need anything!” Peter shouted.

Wade raised his arm.

Peter gasped as he yanked his head out from Wade’s armpit. “When is the last time you showered?”

“More than a day, less than a week.”

Peter pretended to gag.

“It’s what you get for breaking the rule.”

“I’m seventeen! I can get my own juice.”

“Maybe if you didn’t have the face of a puppy. Guys like you lure bad guys like me.” Wade fully released Peter from his embrace. He took a step back, only to swipe his arm around Peter’s neck and give him a noogie. “Until you grow out of that baby face, you grab me when you need something this late. Understood?”

“You were in middle of sex though,” Peter protested, freeing himself from Wade’s abuse in the process.

Wade frowned. “Sex? Oh, yeah. I guess that’s what it would have sounded like.” Wade waved away Peter’s concern. “The sex worker ain’t coming for another hour. Even then, just give me five minutes. I can finish and get you whatever you need.”

Peter dragged his hand down his face. “That’s...that’s ridiculous. Just let me get my juice in peace.”

“Hey, if it were up to me, you could get your juice in peace, but you attract trouble.”

“I do not!”

Wade huffed. He reached into his hoodie and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. “Trouble has followed you around since the day I met you, and probably before.” He pulled out a cig, lit it, and slipped it in his mouth as he pocketed the pack and lighter.

Wade thrust his hand at Peter. “So you want to go home or do you want to stay here?”

Deja vu hit Peter hard. A foggy memory of when he first met Wade played in his mind. The details were missing, but he remembered hiding away from his family and meeting Wade. He remembered staying with Wade until he missed his aunt and uncle, then Wade taking him home.

“We don’t need to hold hands,” Peter said.

Wade blew out smoke. “Too bad. We’re treating this like elementary school and implementing the buddy system. I’m not going to have you distracted by something nerdy and have you race off on your own.”

“I wouldn’t do that.”

“Fine.” Wade shrugged. “It’s so that I don’t run off when we come across prostitutes.” Wade waved his hand. “Just take it already. Unless you’re scared.”

“As if I’d ever be scared of you.” Peter snatched up Wade’s hand and squeezed. “You’re weird, but not dangerous.”

“Just keep telling yourself that.” Wade led Peter down the road.

Indignation filled Peter, but he kept his thoughts to himself.

Wade was weird. There was a lot Peter didn’t understand about Wade.

What he did understand was this: no matter what Wade said to the contrary, he’d never let anything bad happen to Peter.


End file.
